


Intense

by Brumeier



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Community: mcsheplets, First Kiss, Friendship, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 16:46:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14193318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: When Sheppard gets dosed offworld, Rodney has to step up and take charge. But John makes it up to him later.





	Intense

**Author's Note:**

> Written for McSheplets #276: Anxiety

“We have to go, Colonel!” Rodney snapped. “Now!”

But John wouldn’t move. He just stayed huddled behind the rock they were using for cover, eyes wide. They had less than a minute to take advantage of Ronon’s distraction and Rodney could feel the time ticking away.

“Sheppard!”

“It’s not safe out there!”

“No shit! That’s why we need to go!” Rodney growled in frustration and grabbed the front of John’s tac vest, pulling him to his feet. “I can’t be you, Sheppard! _You_ have to be you!”

John clutched at him, his breath coming too fast, color high on his cheeks. “But I can’t –”

“No time!”

Rodney made for the tree line, dragging John behind him. Of all the times for their fearless leader to be felled by some anxiety-inducing drug!

They made it to the relative safety of the forest and Rodney let them rest a minute behind one of the wide trunks of the native trees.

“What do we do next? Colonel!”

John was shaking like a leaf. “You have to leave me. I’m slowing you down.”

“Don’t be stupid. I need a real plan, not more suicidal heroism.” Rodney caught John’s face between his hands. “Breathe with me. Deep in, hold, exhale. Try to relax your arms while you breathe, can you do that?”

Rodney was no stranger to anxiety. He’d suffered with it his whole life, though he’d learned to manage it fairly well by the time he was in graduate school. Living in a place where people and inanimate objects were constantly trying to kill him was a challenge, though, and he resented John just a little for forcing him to be the calm, collected one.

The breathing helped Rodney, but it didn’t seem to be doing much for John. Which was probably because John’s anxiety was chemically induced. 

“We have to…we have to loop back around to the Gate.” John hugged himself. “Remember what Teyla said?”

Rodney nodded. “The villagers stay out of the forest because they’re stupidly superstitious, which works in our favor. But we’ll have to cross open ground to get to the Gate. What do we do then?”

“Worry about it. When we get there.”

 _If we get there_ , Rodney thought. John was sweating and shaking worse than before. There was no telling what else was going on with him that he couldn’t express. Maybe heart palpitations, dizziness…any one of over a dozen symptoms. When Rodney was in the middle of an episode it felt similar to what he imagined a heart attack might feel like.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

“Rodney, I don’t –”

“Shut it, Colonel.” Rodney peeled one of John’s arms away from his body and took firm hold of his hand, slotting their fingers tightly together. “Together, or not at all. Don’t make me say it again. I hate sounding like a Disney movie.”

John nodded, squeezing Rodney’s hand.

They made their way along the edges of the forest, far enough away to keep from being seen, but not so far they’d lose sight of where they were going. Rodney hoped Teyla and Ronon were doing the same. He hated when the team split up.

John suffered in silence for a while, the only indication he was having trouble reflected in how hard he squeezed Rodney’s hand. They made it almost twenty minutes before they had to stop again.

“I’m gonna be sick,” John said. He pulled away and ducked around a spiny-looking bush, retching.

Rodney grimaced. He didn’t deal well with vomit, his own or anyone else’s, but he couldn’t just ignore what John was going through. He unclipped the canteen from his vest and pulled out the med kit. He wet one of the gauze bandages and carefully made his way around the bush.

John was bent over, hands on his knees, and looking about as miserable as a person could look. Rodney averted his eyes from anything John might have horked up and put the wet bandage on the back of his neck; hopefully it would help him feel a little better.

“You about done?”

“Think so.”

Rodney pulled John’s canteen and handed it to him so he could rinse out his mouth. “Good, because we need to keep moving. You probably haven’t been paying attention, but it’s starting to get dark.”

John looked up at him, eyes a little glassy. “Where are we going?”

“We don’t have time for this,” Rodney said with a sigh. 

He had to swallow down his own anxiety. John was getting worse, and Rodney was going to need him once they got to the clearing. He did the breathing, reminded himself that he could have a complete and total breakdown once they were back home, and grabbed hold of John’s hand again.

It was fully dark by the time they made it to the clearing, the half-moon offering very little illumination, and Rodney could just make out the looming shape of the Gate. What he couldn’t see was if there were any villagers barring the way. If there were, they weren’t giving themselves away.

“I can’t do it,” John whispered. He and Rodney were hunkered down behind some scrubby brush and he was pressed up so close that Rodney could feel the tremors running through him. “It’s too exposed. What if we get ambushed? I can’t…I can’t keep you safe and…and that’s my job.”

“Calm down,” Rodney whispered back. “Remember the breathing? That’s your only job right now.”

They did the breathing together before Rodney turned his attention back to the clearing, eyes straining to make out movement in the dark. How would he be able to tell an angry villager from Ronon?

“Sheppard, do you see anything?”

John shook his head without even looking and Rodney tried not to snap at him. The situation was frustrating, but it wasn’t like he could blame John for that; whatever the stupid villagers had given him was the real culprit. Still, it would’ve been nice to be able to count on the man who almost single-handedly repelled a Genii invasion.

Rodney wasn’t equipped to lead, not out in the field. Not with Sheppard incapacitated and the rest of his team in the wind. He calculated the time it would take them to cross the clearing, enter the address for Atlantis into the DHD, and get clearance to pass through the event horizon. They’d be exposed for a good seven minutes.

A lot could happen in seven minutes.

“What’s the sign? Shit! I forgot the sign!” Rodney shook John’s shoulder. “What’s the sign?”

“It’s me,” Ronon said from behind them. 

Rodney jumped, and John curled up in a ball.

“Damn it! Was that necessary?” Rodney rubbed John’s back. “Relax, Colonel Armadillo. It’s just your big, dumb friend.”

“He still being weird?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Rodney snapped. “Where’s Teyla?”

“On the other side of the Gate.” Ronon squatted down next to them. “She’ll clear a path and I’ll keep them off your six.”

“How many?” 

“You don’t want to know.”

Rodney closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. Seven minutes. They just needed seven minutes. He had to get John back to Atlantis, get whatever was causing the unending anxiety attack out of John’s system. 

“Okay, Sheppard. Hey. Look at me.” He waited for John to unfold himself, though it was too dark to really see his face. “We have to get across that clearing, and I need you up and mobile to do it. Can you focus long enough? Because I’m not carrying you, and I’m not leaving you behind.”

“He can do it,” Ronon said. He hauled John to his feet. “Save the scientist, save the world.”

“Did you just bastardize a _Heroes_ catchprase?”

“Let’s do this,” John said. His voice was tremulous and weak, but at least he was on the same page.

The seven minutes that followed were somehow both a blur and the longest seven minutes of Rodney’s life. He and John literally ran for their lives across the clearing as villagers popped up out of the long grass. Ronon beat them back like he was playing a demented live-action version of whack-a-mole while Teyla did the same from the other side. It was too dark for Rodney to take a chance using his gun, so he just held tight to John and made a beeline for the Gate.

Rodney took a glancing blow to the shoulder that sent him sprawling, but John fought through the anxiety and managed to get them both to the DHD.

“Hurry, Rodney!” Teyla shouted.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he shouted back.

He punched in the address, not needing any light for that. The wormhole momentarily blinded him as it burst into existence, filling the clearing with a swirling blue glow. Rodney used his GDO to transmit his security code and waited for the green light that meant the iris had been retracted.

“Come on, come on, come on,” he chanted. Finally! The green light! “Let’s go!” 

They were close enough that Rodney could almost touch the Gate when John collapsed. Nothing Rodney did could get him up again or get him to respond at all. All Rodney could think was that John’s heart had given out due to the sustained anxiety and adrenalin; his CPR training flew right out of his head.

“Ronon!”

“Got him,” Ronon replied. “Go!”

“You first!” Rodney radioed for Carson, told him to get to the Gate Room as fast as possible.

Ronon lifted John into a fireman’s carry and slipped through the Gate. Teyla came on the run, barely pausing as she grabbed hold of Rodney’s arm and dragged him through behind her.

“Close the iris!” Rodney yelled once they were through.

He needn’t have bothered, since none of the villagers were stupid enough to follow them through. Rodney kind of wished some of them had, for all the trouble they’d caused.

“He’s not breathing,” Ronon said. He lowered John carefully to the floor.

Carson got there with his team before anyone could even start rescue breathing. The nurse manually pumped air into John’s lungs as they got him loaded up on the gurney. 

“I’ll examine the rest of you as soon as we have the Colonel sorted,” Carson called over his shoulder.

Ronon followed along behind the gurney, but Teyla gave Rodney a critical once-over and nodded. 

“I believe we will go to your quarters,” she said.

All he could do was nod, the anxiety he’d been fighting with for the last few hours coming back on him with a vengeance. He wanted to stay with John, needed to make sure he was going to be okay, needed to – 

“John will be fine,” Teyla said. 

Rodney hoped so.

*o*o*o*

“You’re a hard guy to find,” John said, joining Rodney at the rail of the balcony.

“Not that hard, apparently,” Rodney replied. 

They stood together in silence, gazing out at the night sky over New Lantea.

“You know, I never look at the stars anymore.” Rodney cautiously put more weight on the rail; the last thing he wanted to do was plummet to his death. “I used to sit outside with a telescope for hours when I was a kid, dreaming about traveling in space.”

“Now you’re living the dream.”

Rodney snorted. “My dreams didn’t involve soul-sucking vampires.”

He saw John nod out of the corner of his eye. It was nice having him up and around again after spending so many days in the infirmary, sedated, while Carson tried to reverse the effects of whatever had put John’s life in jeopardy. 

“You ever regret it?” John asked. “Leaving Earth behind?”

Rodney shrugged. “I regret some things that’ve happened since we came here. People I lost, mistakes I made. But regret coming to Atlantis? No.”

He knew he had flaws, and a lot of them. He’d come to Atlantis with the hopes of learning more about the universe and cementing his name in the annals of scientific discovery. Actual friendships hadn’t been part of that picture, but his first trip through the wormhole had led to something much more than he’d anticipated. Rodney belonged there, in a way he never had anywhere else. His team had become the family he’d always wanted as a kid: they cared about him and expected a lot from him while still accepting him for who he was.

The almost dying wasn’t great, but Rodney was willing to take it in trade.

“So, I wanted to say thanks. For stepping up and helping me.” John rubbed the back of his neck, a sure sign he was uncomfortable. “You, uh. You seem like you have some experience with that sort of thing.”

“I know my way around an anxiety attack, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It was…pretty intense.”

Rodney nodded. “Yeah. It can be pretty bad sometimes. It’s easy to spiral, especially out here where everything is trying to kill me.”

“How do you stop it?” 

John sounded sincerely curious, and Rodney took a moment to ponder his response. He’d be revealing a lot if he was honest, maybe more than John was able to handle. On the other hand, it wouldn’t hurt John to be a little uncomfortable after everything he’d put Rodney through in the last few days.

“I don’t stop it,” he said finally. “You do.”

“I do what?”

“You know when we’re trapped in a Hive ship or under fire offworld, and you yell at me? That gets me out of my spiral.”

Rodney braced himself and waited for a denial or an obfuscation or outright anger, but instead John looked dismayed.

“I yell at you. While you’re in the middle of a panic attack.”

“Isn’t that what I just said? Maybe Carson released you too soon.” Rodney reached for his radio, but John waylaid him by wrapping his hand around Rodney’s wrist.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking Rodney in the eye.

John’s sustained touch was sending electric shocks up Rodney’s arm. Suddenly he felt like he was the one out of his depth.

“If you’re apologizing for making me do all the work getting us back here, I accept.”

“That. And because you deserve to have someone take care of you the way you took care of me.”

There was an unexpected amount of emotion shining out of John’s eyes and Rodney had a hard time catching his breath. They were close, of course. Best friends, though sometimes Rodney fantasized about being more. But John always kept a part of himself closed off. Until now.

“Everyone handles their anxiety differently, Sheppard,” Rodney said, voice hushed. “You snap me out of a spiral faster than anything else ever has. It works. For me, it works.”

Anxiety was a part of his daily life. It was worst-case scenarios and food paranoia and self-doubt, a kind of low-level hum that amped up to eleven when things went sideways. Which they did a lot. But more often than not it only took John saying his name in that sharp, commanding voice to derail the anxiety and allow Rodney focus on the task at hand. 

John still hadn’t let go of Rodney’s wrist. In fact, his thumb was rubbing gently over the pulse point there.

“Your heart’s beating pretty fast,” John said softly.

“Even I know you can’t tell that with your thumb,” Rodney replied, even though John was right. “You’re most likely feeling your own heartbeat.”

“Maybe we should breathe together.” 

John’s words were little more than a breath themselves, and then they were kissing, Rodney’s captured hand now pressed against John’s chest.

It was a different type of spiral for Rodney, though some of the symptoms were the same: shortness of breath, that jittery feeling just under his skin. And one thing running through his mind on a loop: _John, John, John_.

“I’m not feeling any calmer,” Rodney gasped as John nuzzled at his ear.

“Intense,” John agreed breathily. 

Somehow their fingers had gotten tangled up, and John had his free hand pressed to the middle of Rodney’s back, holding him close. As if Rodney would try to get away.

“You do realize you’ve given me a million more things to worry about now.”

John pulled back, just enough to look Rodney in the eyes. Rodney lost his breath again at the open expression on John’s face.

“We’ll help each other through it. Right?”

Rodney surged forward for another kiss. Regrets? He had a few. But coming to Atlantis, being with John…he could never regret that.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** While I do suffer a bit of social anxiety (“Plans got cancelled? Yay!”) I don’t have the kind of anxiety I’ve written about here. I did rely on some Googling, and second-hand knowledge because my brother has been dealing with a lot of anxiety attacks lately. So I apologize if this isn’t an accurate representation of anxiety.


End file.
